


How far I'll go

by bethejerktomybitch



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, BAMF Bilbo Baggins, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, F/M, Female Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Fíli and Kíli Are Little Shits, Gandalf Meddles, Gandalf Ships It, Quest of Erebor, Rule 63, Slow Burn, Thorin Has No Sense Of Direction, Thorin Is an Idiot, Thorin is a Softie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-07-24 17:08:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16179464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethejerktomybitch/pseuds/bethejerktomybitch
Summary: For a long time now, life in the Shire hasn't been enough for Brianna Took-Baggins. She is longing for something more, something to satisfy the Took inside of her, and so when Gandalf appears and asks her to come along on an adventure, she doesn't hesitate. Little does she know that a stubborn dwarven king will be the least of her problems…





	1. step into the night

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there!  
> I'm finally getting started on a longer Hobbit fic, yay. Fair warning, English is not my first language, so there might be some horrible mistakes that I didn't notice. Tell me if you find some!
> 
> I do not own any of the characters except for my changes on Bilbo Baggins. There will be some dialogue taken directly from the movie, so I don't own that either. 
> 
> Anyway, have fun with the first chapter and leave some kudos or a comment if you like it!   
> (Oh, and yes, I definitely got the title from the Moana song!)

_Let us step into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure._

_J. K. Rowling_

 

As the sun rose in the east, Brianna Took-Baggins snuck back into her smial, letting the door fall shut behind her with a sigh of relief. She had narrowly avoided bumping into her neighbor, Hobson Willoughby, on her way back from her nightly trip to watch the lightning bugs dance over the hills. For weeks now, the old hobbit had been bugging her about a few meadows belonging to the Bag End estate that he wanted to purchase, and Brianna really did not have the patience to deal with him this morning.

 

She kept an eye on the windows as she changed into a clean dress, made a few sandwiches and brewed herself a cup of tea. As soon as she saw Willoughby walk past her smial towards the town center, she took her small breakfast outside and sat down on the wooden bench in her garden, enjoying the warmth of the rising sun as she ate.

 

After she had eaten, she filled a pipe – one of the few customs of the Shire that she actually enjoyed – but as she was about to light it, a shadow slipped between her and the morning sun. Brianna looked up to see an old man in grey cloak, wearing a pointy hat and holding a wooden staff, who was looking down at her with a curious expression on his face. He seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it.

 

“Good morning.” she greeted politely.

 

The old man raised his eyebrow. “What do you mean?” he asked. “Do you wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning? Or are simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?”

 

Brianna couldn’t help it; she let out a little laugh. “I have to admit, I’ve never quite thought about the meaning behind an innocuous greeting. Thank you for opening my eyes to the fine nuances of saying good morning.”

 

The man smiled at her. “Ah.” he said, sounding pleasantly surprised. “I see you’ve inherited your mother’s quick mouth.” Brianna leant forward, slightly taken aback by the mention of her mother. “You knew my mother?” she asked. The man nodded. “Belladonna was a very dear friend of mine.” he replied. “I know you too, though you were very small when I saw you last. My name is Gandalf.”

 

Brianna gasped. “Gandalf the Grey? The wandering wizard who made such delightful fireworks?” He nodded with another smile and gave a little bow. “That’s me.” She jumped to her feet. “Please, you must join me for a cup of tea.” she implored him. “And some scones too, perhaps, it’s almost time for elevenses. Come, come.” Without protest, Gandalf followed her inside.

 

He made his way through the hallways of her smial with some difficulty, but as soon as she had gotten out the extra-large chair her mother had kept for such occasions, he made himself comfortable. Brianna brewed another large pot of tea and whipped up a few quick scones, and then they sat down opposite of each other.

 

They chatted pleasantly about this and that for a while, but after a few minutes Brianna’s curiosity got the better of her. “If I may ask, what brings you to Hobbiton?” she asked. “I’d imagine a wizard like you had a lot of important business to attend to.” Slowly and deliberately, Gandalf set down his cup. “Well, I am looking for someone to share in an adventure.” he replied.

 

Brianna’s eyebrows shot up. “An adventure?” she replied incredulously. “Really?” The wizard nodded. “Yes, really. Do you know happen to know of anyone who might be interested in that, Miss Baggins?” There was a twinkle in his eyes, as if he knew exactly was going to say, and a grin curled Brianna’s lips. “Actually, it’s Took-Baggins.” she said. “And I don’t think you have to look any further.”

 

* * *

 

 After Gandalf had left, Brianna spent the rest of the day cooking – half to feed the hungry dwarves the wizard had announced would arrive in the evening, half to distract herself from the buzzing anticipation. For months now, the never-changing trot of life in the Shire had been boring her nearly to death, and so Gandalf’s offer couldn’t have come at a better time. Still, she couldn’t deny she was a little nervous.

 

By the time the sun set, the two pushed-together tables in the dining room were laden with plates full of food. Brianna had also baked two trays of the famous Took chocolate brownies and a giant fruit cake which were waiting in the pantry, and now there was nothing left to do except wait while she made herself a bit more presentable.

 

She didn’t have to wait long. Only a few minutes after she had finished tying her hair back into a loose braid and put on a loose fitting dark red dress that didn’t have flour all over it, there was a single knock on the door. Brianna hurried through the hallway and opened it to see a dwarf who was a good couple of inches taller than her, with a bald head full of rune-like tattoos and bulging muscles that were visible even under his heavy-looking leather and fur clothes.

 

“Dwalin.” he said, bowing. “At your service.” She smiled and gave a little bow as well. “Brianna Took-Baggins, at yours.” she said, stepping aside so he could enter. “Please, do come in. Dinner is ready, we just have to wait for the others to arrive.”

 

She took the dwarf’s coat and then showed him to the dining room. “Help yourself to something to drink.” she said gesturing to the pitchers of ale on the table.

 

Before Dwalin could reply, there was another knock. “Excuse me.” Brianna said, hurrying to open the door again. On the other side was a white-haired dwarf, this one smaller than her, who gave her a kind smile. “Balin.” he introduced himself. “At your service.”

 

Once again, she repeated her own greeting and led the dwarf to the dining room, where Dwalin and Balin puzzled her extremely by greeting each other by violently butting their head against each other’s.

 

Little by little, more dwarves arrived, with Brianna doing her best to remember all of the names, until, at last, twelve of them were sitting around her dining table, joined by herself and Gandalf. They were a merry bunch, though not too big on manners, but Brianna found she didn’t mind too much. It was way too gratifying to have something interesting happening for once.

 

“The food is delicious, Miss Brianna.” the white-haired dwarf, Balin, said, and the other dwarf nodded along, praising her food. She smiled and blushed a little. “Thank you so much. But Gandalf, didn’t you say there were going to be thirteen dwarves?” The wizard nodded. “Yes. We are still waiting for one.”

 

“Well then.” Brianna said, snatching one plate away and heaping food onto it. “We should put some food aside for him. Otherwise there won’t be anything left after you hungry lot are done.”

 

After the dwarves had emptied every single plate save the one she had saved for the dwarf who was still to arrive, they nearly gave her a heart attack when they started throwing the plates and knives around to clean them, but miraculously everything remained intact and Brianna even laughed a little at their song.

 

They smiled at her proudly when they were done and she chuckled. “Great job, guys.” she said, grinning. “But we’re going to have to get some of the plates out again. There’s still dessert.” The dwarves whooped at that and with another laugh, Brianna went to get the brownies and the cake, taking a few pieces aside and putting them with the rest of the food she had saved.

 

The dwarves emptied the trays in record time and cleaned those plates again, and when they were done, there was another heavy knock on the door. For some reason, everyone at the table seemed to straighten a little. “He’s here.” Gandalf said, and Brianna got up, making her way through the hallway to open the door.

 

The dwarf on the other side was… devastatingly handsome. There were no other words to describe him. He had long dark hair, a neatly cropped dark beard, and was clad in dark clothes that seemed skillfully tailored to fit his broad, muscular shoulders. His eyes were of a piercing blue, and it took Brianna a moment to find her words. “Good evening.” she finally managed to say, her voice a little hoarse.

 

The dwarf, however, only looked at her dismissively before turning to Gandalf. “Gandalf.” he said. “I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice. I wouldn’t have found it all had it not been for that mark on the door.” Brianna rolled her eyes with a quiet little sigh. Of course Gandalf would put a mark on her door, a door she had just had painted a week ago.

 

The wizard turned and smiled at her. “Brianna Took-Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company: Thorin Oakenshield.” The dark-haired dwarf looked down at her. “So.” he said, rather arrogantly. “This is the hobbit.” Brianna had to bite back a snort. Apparently his good looks only hid a decidedly unpleasant personality. What a shame.

 

“Tell me, Miss Baggins, have you done much fighting?” She raised one eyebrow. “Took-Baggins.” she corrected him sharply. “And I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.”

 

He scoffed. “Thought as much.” he muttered and then added: “She looks more like a barmaid than a burglar.” Not for the first time, Brianna’s mouth moved before her brain had caught up. “And you look more like a ill-mannered brute than a leader, but here we both are.” The whole room seemed to hold its breath. Thorin took a single step towards her, glaring down at her threateningly. “Do not dare speak to me that way.” he said, dangerously calm.

 

Brianna raised her chin defiantly. The Tooks had always been known for their stubbornness, and she wasn’t about to back down now. “I will treat you with respect once you afford me the same courtesy.” she said coldly. For a few moments the air between them seemed thick with tension as they each refused to break eye contact, but then Thorin scoffed again and turned away.

 

“Let’s get to the matters at hand.” he growled, stomping off towards the dining room. Brianna followed, but didn’t miss the slightly impressed look that some of the dwarves shot her.

 

Once they had all sat down again, they started talking about someone named Dain while Brianna went to fetch the plates she had saved. Without a word or looking at him, she slammed them down in front of Thorin before taking her place next to Gandalf once again. As they began talking about some sort of quest, the wizard turned to face her. “Brianna, dear, have you ever heard of Erebor?” he asked.

 

She quinted. “Vaguely.” she admitted. “Some sort of ancient dwarven kingdom, correct? I think my mother told me about it once.” Gandalf nodded with a smile. “Belladonna was quite correct.” he said, pulling out a map and spreading it across the table.

 

 “This is Erebor.” he said, pointing to a single mountain on the map. “It was once the greatest stronghold of Durin’s folk, until…”

 

One of the dwarves – Fili, she believed – jumped in. “Until the beast came.” “What beast?” Brianna asked curiously. The one with the strange hat, Bofur, answered. “That would be a reference to Smaug the terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire-breather, teeth like razors, claws like…”

 

“You could have just said dragon.” she interrupted him drily. Bofur, seeming slightly taken aback by her nonchalance, nodded. “I…I suppose I could have.”

 

A red haired dwarf jumped up. “I’m not afraid!” he exclaimed. “I’m up for it! I’ll give him a taste of Dwarvish iron right up his jacksie!” “Good lad, Ori!” one of the others said, but Thorin didn’t seem too thrilled – though that could also simply be his default expression; Brianna couldn’t be sure.

 

“Sit down.” Balin ordered sharply, and then said: “The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us, but we number just thirteen. And not thirteen of the best… or brightest.”

 

This remark sparked a loud discussion which only escalated further when Gandalf refused to answer the question of how many dragons he had killed, and which was only stopped when Thorin jumped to his feet. “Enough!” he yelled, and everyone fell silent immediately. “If we have read these signs... do you not think others will have read them too?” he said, his voice carrying through the room.

 

“Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon, Smaug, has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look east to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?”

 

The other dwarves cheered and Brianna only sighed. He was charismatic; she had to give him that. Balin, who seemed to be the voice of reason in this company, spoke once again. “You forget, the front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain.” Gandalf leaned forward, another one of his knowing smiles on his face, and held up a key. “That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true.”

 

As soon as he laid eyes on the key, something changed in Thorin’s face. “How did you come by this?” he asked, his voice shaking ever so slightly. When Gandalf answered, his face softened a little. “It was given to me by your father Thrain, for safekeeping. It is yours now.” Silence filled the room, and before anyone could say anything else, Gandalf pointed at the map that was still lying on the table.

 

“This map speaks of a hidden passage to the lower hall. I do not have the skill to read, but there are others in middle earth who do. The task I have in mind… it’s difficult, and it will require a great deal of stealth and courage, but I believe it can be done.” He turned and smiled down at Brianna. “That is where our hobbit comes in.”

 

When they had talked that morning, Gandalf hadn’t given her much information besides the rough premise of the quest, so she raised her eyebrows questioningly now. “And what is it you want me to do?” she asked. “Very easy, my dear.” Gandalf replied, though she doubted it would really be that easy. “You’re going to be our burglar. Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet, and the dragon will not be accustomed to your smell, both of which will give us a distinct advantage.”

 

Before Brianna could say anything, Thorin gave another scoff. “She hardly seems like burglar material.” he said. “And I do not think it would be wise to bring a woman along on our quest.” Brianna whipped her head around and fixed him with a sharp look. “Tell me, do you trust Gandalf?” she asked sharply.

 

After a moment of hesitation, he nodded curtly and she gave a content grin. “Well, Gandalf has chosen me. So you’re just going to have to trust that I’m exactly the burglar you need.”

 

Said wizard next to her chuckled slightly, but Brianna had to admit that she was acting more self-assured than she actually felt. Stealing from a dragon – that, though arguably extremely exciting, also sounded awfully dangerous, and she wasn’t as sure of her skills as she was pretending to be.

 

Thorin’s jaw tensed, but after a moment he nodded again. “Very well.” he growled. “Give her the contract.” Balin pulled out a thick roll of parchment and handed it to her. As Brianna read it over, her heart jumped in her chest a little. The contract mentioned countless ways in which she might find her death on the quest, ways she would rather not experience, but she forced herself to smile, and, with a flourish, signed her name at the bottom of the sheet.

 

“There you go.” she said, handing it back to Balin. “All set.”

 

Gandalf smiled. “Excellent.” he said, and then made a gesture encompassing them all. “This, then, shall be the company of Thorin Oakenshield.”


	2. only the passionate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've taken some liberties with the timeline in this one. Thorin is younger than in the book, since the movies made him seem quite a bit younger than Balin. Brianna is also younger than Bilbo, and I'm pretty sure Hobbits are considered adults at 33, not at 25. I hope you don't mind the changes too much.

_Only the passionate were immortal, it seemed. If you fought, screwed, screamed, laughed, or otherwise experienced life intensely, for better or worse, you left a record. Those who lived a quiet, well-behaved, well-tempered life?_ _Gone without a trace._

_Magnus Flyte_

 

Brianna woke early the next morning and packed everything she thought she might need on the journey into a sturdy leather bag before heading to the kitchen and starting to prepare breakfast with the meagre remains of food in her pantry. Kili and Fili joined her after a while and offered to set the table, which made her decide that she liked them much better than their uncle.

 

During breakfast, she mainly talked to the two lads, and when they were done, Thorin was the first to stand up. “We leave in half an hour.” he announced. “Be ready.” Then, without another word, he stomped out of the room.

 

“Is he always like this?” she asked drily and Kili smirked at her. “It’s particularly bad in the morning.” he whispered and then walked off after his uncle, presumably to get ready for their departure.

 

Brianna spent the half-hour until their departure cleaning up the smial and feeling homesick despite not having left yet, but when the time was up she straightened her shoulders resolutely and walked towards the door, carrying her back and dressed in travel clothes. She had wanted an adventure for a very long time, and now, now that it had come along, she wasn’t about to chicken out.

 

Thorin seemed vaguely disappointed when she stepped out of the door, as if had hoped she would change her mind after all, and she glared at him until he looked away.

 

Kili walked up to her, holding the reins of two ponies. “This one’s for you, Miss Brianna.” he said, offering her the reins of a brown one. She gave him a smile. “Thank you. And please, just Brianna.”

 

She patted the pony’s neck. “Does it have a name?” she asked. Kili shook his head. “No. We only purchased them a few days ago. It is a mare, though.” Brianna grinned and then chuckled as the pony nuzzled its nose into her hand. “I think I’m going to name you Lilly.” she said, stroking its soft fur.

 

It had been a while since she had last sat on a pony, but she pretty quickly got the bearings of it again once she had climbed onto Lilly’s back. The dwarves mounted their ponies as well while Gandalf sat on his horse, and then Thorin let his gaze wander between all of them. “Everyone ready?” he asked. Collective nodding was his answer, and he gave an almost-smile. “Alright then.” he said. “Let’s go.”

 

And with that they set off, leaving Hobbiton and with it the only home Brianna had ever known behind.

 

As soon as they were out of the village, Kili slowed his pony until he was right next to her while Fili did the same on her other side. “So” the blonde dwarf said, with a look on his face that made it very clearly he wanted something. “Those brownies you made… think you can make them again sometime?”

 

Brianna raised her eyebrows, hiding a smile. “On the road? Probably not, unless one of you happens to have packed some cocoa.” Fili looked like she had just taken away his favorite toy, and she couldn’t help but burst into laughter. “I’ll make them for you once we’re back in civilization, I promise.” she added, and his face lit up immediately.

 

“We’re keeping you.” he announced and Brianna laughed again, at least until she caught the gaze Thorin was shooting them. Raising her voice so he couldn’t miss it even if he tried, she replied: “I don’t think your uncle would like that too much.”

 

Kili shrugged and gave her a rueful look. Much quieter than her, he said: “Yeah, well, he takes a while to warm up to people. He’ll come around, you’ll see.” Brianna only snorted. There was no way she was going to warm up to Thorin any time soon, not after the way he had treated her so far. “We’ll see.” she muttered under her breath.

 

For a moment there was silence, then Fili said: “Can I ask you something?” Brianna nodded. “Sure, go ahead.” The young dwarf hesitated for a moment, then he asked: “Why did you decide to come along? It seems like you have a nice life back in Hobbiton; why give it all up to go on the road with a bunch of dwarves?”

 

Brianna sighed, thinking about where to start, and then she began talking. “Well, I… to be honest, I’ve been waiting for something like this to come along for a while.” she said. “Back in Hobbiton, I was always the odd one out. The other hobbits would look at me strange because I didn’t act the way everyone else did. I just wanted… I wanted something more, I guess.”

 

The brothers looked uncharacteristically thoughtful, at least until Kili asked: “What do you mean, you didn’t act like everyone else?” “For one, it would be highly frowned upon for a respectable hobbit lady to host a band of thirteen vagabond dwarves for the night.” she said with a smirk, but then added seriously: “What I mean is, I was a bit too… wild, I suppose. Most gals my age are married and have at least one fauntling by now.”

 

A mischievous glint appeared in Kili’s eyes. “Why aren’t you?”

 

Brianna raised her eyebrows. “I haven’t found a man yet that didn’t bore me to death.” she replied with a wink, and to her amusement Kili blushed a little.

 

She watched him suffer through his embarrassment for a little, then she decided to show him mercy by asking: “What about the company? Are any of them married?”

 

It was Fili who answered. “Only Gloin.” he said. “He has a little boy too; his name is Gimli. But I would advise you to never ask him about them, he literally won’t stop talking about them for hours.” Brianna was a little surprise. “Really?” she asked. “Gloin is the only one married out of the whole company? How come?”

 

Kili, on her other side, shrugged. “It’s probably because there aren’t that many dwarven women.” he explained. “Men outnumber women two to one, and of those not all wish to marry. And, well, additionally, most members of our company are a bit… how do I say this… peculiar.” Brianna’s eyes darted from Bifur with his axe to Bofur with his strange hat to shy Ori and to Oin’s ear trumpet, and she understood what Kili meant.

 

“Not me, of course.” Fili threw in. “I’m still young, after all. I’m only eighty-two.”

 

Brianna’s eyes widened. She knew, of course, that dwarves had longer life-spans than hobbits, but Kili and Fili seemed like they were about as old as her. It was hard to imagine that they were more than twice her age. “Eight-two?” she echoed incredulously.

 

Fili nodded, obviously mistaking her reaction for surprise at his young age instead of the opposite. “Yes. I’m older than Kili, though, he’s only seventy-seven.” he said. Kili seemed offended, but before he could say anything, Brianna asked: “And that’s young in dwarven years?”

 

Now, Fili seemed confused. “Well, yeah. Uncle is one-hundred-and-fifty years old.”

 

Brianna couldn’t help but look at Thorin ahead of them. As much of an asshole as he was, there was no denying he was extremely handsome. She knew a few hobbits who were close to him in age, and each and every one of them looked like walking fossils. Thorin definitely looked good for his age, she had to give him that.

 

“How old are you?” Kili asked.

 

“I’m thirty-three.” she replied, and both brothers gasped in unison. “Mahal, you’re practically a baby.” Fili exclaimed, at which she shot him a disapproving look. “Hobbits are considered adults at twenty-five.” she said, a bit offended. “I am very much not a child.”

 

They still didn’t seem entirely convinced when Kili mumbled incredulously: “Twenty-five… that’s so young.” “When are dwarves considered adults?” Brianna asked curiously. “At forty.” Fili replied. “Though most adults don’t take you seriously until you’re at least seventy. Kili and I had to beg uncle to take us along on the quest. He said we were too immature and irresponsible.”

 

Brianna gave them a smirk. “I mean, I have to side with Thorin on that one.” she said and the brothers snorted. “You don’t even know us!” Kili complained, which only caused her grin to grow wider. “I have a feeling for that kind of thing.” she assured him. “But a bit of immaturity never hurt anyone. I’m a firm believer in retaining some of the fun in life, even as we grow older.”

 

Kili grinned. “You know, I think we could be very good friends.” he said and Brianna smiled, suddenly feeling strangely warm. “I’d like that.” she replied.

 

It was dark by the time Thorin ordered they would stop for the night. Brianna was relieved to get off of Lilly – she wasn’t used to spending that much time on a pony – and as soon as she had slipped the animal a little treat, she got to work helping Bombur get a fire started. He was in charge of cooking but welcomed her help, and together they made a stew out of the limited supplies they had.

 

After dinner, as they were all sitting around the fire, talking or smoking their pipes, Gandalf sat down on a log next to Brianna. “Good evening, my dear.” he said. “How are you holding up? Still looking forward to our adventure?” Brianna smiled up at him. “I am, yes.” she replied.

 

For a moment they were both silent, then Brianna asked hesitatingly: “Gandalf, why did you really ask me to come along?”

 

The wizard took his time before answering, blowing a ring of smoke into the air that then turned into a bird only to flutter away, before he finally spoke. “I knew your mother very well. She was feisty, always spoke up for herself, wouldn’t let anyone put her down. I always thought she was a little out of place in the Shire.”

 

He glanced at her. “Don’t get me wrong, the Shire is a beautiful place, but it is rather… disconnected from the rest of the world. Whenever I came to visit, your mother would ask me to take her with me once I left again. She had this wild desire to see the world, one that I have never observed in a hobbit.”

 

Another breath, a pause, and he gave her a smile. “When you were a child, Brianna, you had the same energy she always had. I hoped that you still had it, and as it turns out, I wasn’t wrong.” He reached out and patted her hand. “You’re a lot like your mother, my dear.” he said.

 

Brianna only stared into the fire silently, her head full of memories. Her mother had died five years ago, after two years of illness, and she had been with her through all of it. She had watched as her mother had turned from the lively, happy woman she had once been into a sickly invalid who couldn’t get out of bed. Throughout her last weeks, she had been in constant, excruciating pain that the healer’s herbs and remedies couldn’t relief, and when she had finally passed away, Brianna had been right at her side, holding her hand and feeling the life leave her body.

 

When she looked into the mirror now, especially as she grew older, sometimes she couldn’t help but see her mother for a moment, and it always hurt. But now, as Gandalf told her that she reminded him of her mother as well, there was something else beside the pain – pride.

 

She turned and looked at Gandalf. “I hope I don’t disappoint you.” she said quietly, and Gandalf smiled at her. “I’m sure you won’t.” he replied.

 

* * *

 

 Thorin, meanwhile, had a lot of his mind.

 

First and foremost, he was irritated with the wizard. The hobbit – she was simply not suited for a quest like theirs. He had seen the way she lived in the Shire, all the comforts she had, and he didn’t believe that she could deal with all the hardships they were surely going to have to endure on their journey. In his opinion, it was only a matter of time until she would regret ever coming along.

 

Additionally, she was a little thing of a woman, much more petite and delicate than any dwarrowdam, which made her completely vulnerable to any danger they might encounter. Thorin could already imagine it – they were going to have to take care of her, protect her, because he knew that none of them would let a defenseless woman be hurt if they could stop it, even though he had told Gandalf that he wouldn’t be responsible for her wellbeing.

 

She was only going to be a distraction, and they didn’t need a distraction, not if they wanted their quest to be a success. He had already seen the way she had laughed with his nephews during the day, and while he liked to see them laugh, he needed them focused – because he needed them alive.

 

Of course he knew that their mission to regain Erebor was hard, maybe even impossible, and dangerous too, which was why he hadn’t wanted his nephews to come along in the first place, but they had grown up on his and his sister’s stories of the Mountain, had had it ingrained into their very substance since they were born, and so there had really been no way he could say no. That, however, didn’t stop him from worrying about them.

 

But what really occupied his mind was Erebor itself. Back in the Blue Mountains, he couldn’t recall a day where he hadn’t thought of Erebor, hadn’t longed for better days. He had thought that once he started his quest, once he had a tangible hope of regaining his home, that those feelings would go away, but instead they were stronger than ever.

 

Every second since he had called representatives from all the seven kingdoms together and practically begged them for their support, Erebor had been on his mind. At night, he would dream of it, would dream of the mountain where he had grown up, of halls filled with laughter and song, of a time when there hadn’t been all that pain and worry.

 

And now, now that the key Gandalf had given him lay heavy in the pocket of his coat, the aching was stronger than ever. It was a constant reminder of how his home was so close and yet so far.

 

He watched the other members of his company as they sat around the fire, talking and laughing with each other.

 

Out of all of them, Balin was the only one who could even remotely share his feelings, since all of the others had been born in the Blue Mountains and had never known another home. They were determined to regain Erebor, sure, but they just didn’t have the same motivation he did, didn’t have the same personal stakes in it.

 

Later, as everyone went to sleep, Thorin took the first watch. He didn’t want to sleep anyway.

 

If he didn’t dream of Erebor, dreams that left him with a hollow aching inside of him, he dreamed of dragon fire, of a city burning, and those dreams were worse. Thorin much preferred simply staying awake, because that way he at least had some control over his thoughts.

 

His eyes darted over to the hobbit’s sleeping form. She was curled up under a blanket, sleeping peacefully, and like this she looked even younger, even more defenseless. Thorin sighed. He really didn’t know why Gandalf had ever thought it was good idea to take her along. She was only going to get hurt, another name on the long list of casualties he hadn’t been able to stop.

 

He turned his gaze away and stared into the night. Sometimes, he hated the burden of being king. Sometimes, he wished he could just be a dwarf like anyone else. But of course, that would never happen, and so he pushed down those feelings and squared his shoulders, bracing for everything that was to come.

 

He wasn’t going to let his people down.


	3. the fight in the dog

_It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog._

_Mark Twain_

Two days later, as they stopped for the night once again, Kili and Fili came up to her with matching grins. Brianna sighed. “What now?” she asked, slightly exasperated but hiding a smile.

 

Fili nonchalantly twirled a knife he had pulled from somewhere on his body around his finger. “Well, we were thinking, we might run into trouble on our journey.” he said. “You should really learn how to fight.” Brianna’s eyebrows shot up. “What makes you think I don’t already know how to fight?”

 

The brothers seemed very much taken aback by her answer, and to be honest, Brianna wasn’t as confident as she was pretending to be. Sure, her mother, being of the opinion that every woman should know how to defend herself if it came to that, had made sure that she could handle a short sword of the kind hobbits had used to use when they had still fought wars with relative competence, and she also possessed some skills with the throwing knives she kept hidden under her clothes, but she was no way in sure her skills where what the dwarves would consider appropriate.

 

“Do you?” Kili asked after he had stomached his surprise. Brianna shrugged. “A little.” she replied. Better to undersell her abilities than to potentially come off as arrogant and naïve, after all.

 

The grins reappeared on both brothers’ faces. “Come on then.” Fili said, holding out her hand to help her up. “Show us what you can do.” Brianna let out a long-suffering groan. “Do I really have to?” she asked. “I’m tired, and my whole body hurts from sitting on a pony for three days straight.”

 

Kili and Fili exchanged a look and then the younger dwarf dropped down on the ground next to her, shooting her a conspiratorial glance. “Fighting with us a little could have an advantage, though.” he said, low enough so she and his brother were the only ones who could hear. “It might show some of the others that you’re more valuable to the company than they think.”

 

Brianna wasn’t stupid. She knew that he was talking mainly about his uncle, but when she looked over to the leader of their company, she also knew that Kili was right. The dark-haired dwarf still shot her disapproving glances periodically, glances that grew more frequent whenever she talked to the two young princes. She had to admit that it was tempting to show him she wasn’t the helpless girl he thought she was. But what if she only embarrassed herself?

 

 _Nonsense,_ a voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like her mother whispered, and Brianna squared her shoulders. Time to show Thorin that she wouldn’t let him be a sexist asshole of a dwarf. “Fine.” she said. “Let’s do this.”

 

Kili’s and Fili’s faces lit up. “Great!” the younger prince exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “Fight me first, yeah?”

 

Brianna couldn’t help but chuckle at his enthusiasm as she got up as well. “Alright.” she replied. “But if I happen to beat you, don’t be too offended.” Kili puffed his chest, an amusing gesture that made him seem much younger than her actually was. “No chance!” he assured her.

 

The two brothers corralled her into the middle of the camp, to a wide empty space right next to the fire, which now roused the other dwarves’ interest as well. “Axe or sword, what do you fight with?” Fili asked.

 

“Sword.” Brianna replied. “I have my own though, wait.”

 

She walked back over to her back, pulling it out of her back. It had belonged to her great-grandfather who had wielded it against such evils as orcs and goblins, and had then been passed down to her through her grandfather and her mother. Belladonna had given it to her for her twenty-fifth birthday, and Brianna had taken good care of it since then. She hadn’t ever had a reason to use it, thank Yavanna, but she kept it clean and sharp in case such a reason ever arose – a fact that she was now thankful for.

 

“May I see it?” Kili asked. Brianna shook of her sudden rush of discomfort and handed him the sword.

 

Kili inspected it with the eyes of someone who knew a little something about weapons, and when he gave it back to her, he looked a little impressed. “It’s a fine blade.” he said. “Did you know it is of dwarvish make?”

 

Surprised, Brianna shook her head. “No, I didn’t.” she replied. “It used to belong to my great-grandfather; I always assumed it was made by hobbits.” Fili leaned over his brother’s shoulder, glancing at her sword, and then gave an affirmative little grunt. “No, it was definitely made by dwarves.” he agreed. “Looks like work form the Iron Mountains.”

 

Brianna shrugged. “Maybe the old Took got it from the dwarves.” she suggested. “Stories say he travelled a lot; it wouldn’t surprise me if he made some friends in the Iron Mountains.”

 

“Yeah, probably.” Kili agreed and then he changed his own sword from his left hand into his right. A smirk danced across his lips, making him look like a mischievous boy. “Are you ready?” he asked. Brianna grinned, instinctively shifting into the stance her fighting instructor, who had also happened to have been her uncle, had taught her. “I was born ready.” she said.

 

Kili was stronger than her, she knew that, and she had no hope of blocking his hits by pure strength, but she was smaller and faster than him, and she had used that to her advantage. When she was the first one to strike, it took Kili by surprise. He managed to block her hit but was thrown off his rhythm, which allowed her to lunge for him again. He spun away, but the tip of her sword grazed his forearm, leaving a scratch across the leather.

 

A smirk appeared on Kili’s face. “Not bad, little one.” he said, and then he jumped back to avoid her next hit and attacked in turn.

 

It was now clear to Brianna that he had been holding back for the first moments of their fight, trying to go easy on her, but now that he had seen that she had actually had some training and wasn’t completely useless with a blade, he was stepping up his game. Brianna could barely move fast enough to dodge his whirling blade, and only managed to sneak in one other hit of her own before Kili brought his blade down on her own and her sword clattered to the ground.

 

A triumphant grin curled his lips. “Sorry.” he said with a shrug, taking a few steps towards her. “I…” Brianna didn’t think; she acted. She could feel eyes watching her, assessing her, and knew that this was her moment to prove herself to the dwarves.

 

Fast enough so he couldn’t react, she brought her knee up and it collided with Kili’s groin. He gave a pained groan and stumbled back, and Brianna used his distraction to jump to where her sword fallen. She grabbed it, and before Kili could do anything to stop her, she tapped her sword on his shoulder, too close to his neck to be anything but a win.

 

For a moment the young prince stood frozen in place, then he complained: “That doesn’t count! You cheated!” Brianna smirked as she lowered her sword. “Sorry.” she echoed Kili’s earlier apology. “But a win’s a win.”

 

Kili started to say something else, but it was, to her surprise, Balin who interjected. “The hobbit’s right, lad.” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “She beat you. It doesn’t matter how she did it.” The young dwarf actually pouted, while his brother slapped her shoulder so hard Brianna’s knees nearly buckled. “Nice one, Brianna.” Fili said before he burst into laughter, laughing so hard he was wheezing.

 

“The lass’s got potential.” Dwalin grumbled into his beard, and to her utter delight, the other dwarves nodded in agreement – except Thorin, whose face was still stony and unmoving. He appeared to look a little less disapproving though, but that could’ve just as well been a figment of her imagination.

 

It took him a good few minutes, but after Fili had recovered from his manic laughing fit, completely ignoring his brother’s angry glance, he turned towards Brianna again. “Have you ever thought about fighting with two swords?” he asked. She raised her eyebrows and stared at him curiously, her sword still loosely in hand. “No, why?” she asked.

 

“Well, you tend to use your left arm to balance a lot.” Fili explained. “If you had another sword, that arm would be deadly too.” Before Brianna could reply, Dwalin got to his feet. “Aye, the lad is right.” he said. “Yer fighting would benefit from another blade.” He was silent for a moment, seeming like he was waging a silent battle with himself, but then he added with a growl: “We could teach ye, if ye want.”

 

Brianna gave him a smile, the widest and most genuine in a very long time. “I’d like that very much.” she said.

 

Fili destroyed the moment by slapping her shoulder again. “Then it’s settled!” he exclaimed. “You’re going to be an absolute badass by the time we’re done with you, little one!” Brianna rolled her eyes. “Don’t call me that.” she complained half-heartedly, but she couldn’t hide a smile.

 

“Where did you learn to fight, lass?” Balin asked from where he was still sitting at the fire. “I thought the hobbits where a rather peaceful people.”

 

“Oh, we are.” Brianna replied. “My mother’s family, the Tooks, are sort of the black sheep of the Shire in that regard.” “How so?” Kili asked from next to her, his forehead furrowed, and Brianna shrugged. “Well, Tooks always tend to be more adventurous than the average hobbit. My great-grandfather, actually, fought in our last war against the goblins. This was his sword.” She gestured down towards the sword she was still holding.

 

Brianna let her gaze roam around the company and noted with surprise that all of them seemed to be listening intently – except, once again, Thorin, who was staring off into the distance with that majestic brooding look of his. She stopped herself from rolling her eyes again with great effort and continued talking.

 

“He taught my mother to fight when she was a girl.” she said, forcing down the familiar stab of pain at the thought of her mother. “So when I became old enough to hold a sword, she and my uncle began teaching me too. My father didn’t like it much, but mother wanted me to be able to defend myself.”

 

“A good thing she did, too.” Bofur threw in. “This world can be dangerous, even for a lass like you.” Brianna nodded. “Yeah, that’s what my mother said too.” she replied, and then, a little wistfully, added: “When I was little, we used to have these pretend fights with wooden swords. She would always let me win, just to make me happy.”

 

“She must worry about you, now that you’re out here with us.” Fili said from behind her and she tensed abruptly. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse and much quieter than she had intended. “She, uh… she died, a few years ago.”

 

Immediately, all of the dwarves went silent. “I… I’m so sorry.” Fili said after a moment of silence. “I didn’t realize that…” Brianna interrupted him, pasting a smile on her face when she looked at him. “It’s perfectly alright.” she said. “There’s no way any of you could have known.”

 

The blond prince smiled back, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and the awkward silence stretched on even longer, at least until Brianna said: “Honestly though, I only learned how to use a sword because it was my mother’s weapon of choice. I came to appreciate it after a while, but when I was younger I much preferred throwing knives.”

 

At this, Fili lit up. “Really?” he asked with a grin. “Are you any good?” Brianna gave a very unladylike snort. “I like to think I am.” she replied.

 

Fili pulled out a knife from seemingly out of nowhere – his boot, presumably – and twirled it around his fingers with a smirk. “We could always do a little competition.” he suggested. “You may have beaten my little brother, but you haven’t faced me yet.” Kili looked outraged at this, but the obvious challenge sparked something inside of Brianna.

 

“Kili seems to think you won’t stand a chance either.” she said playfully, and Fili’s smirk grew even wider. “I guess we’ll just have to see about that.” he announced as he slowly walked to the edge of the clearing they had made camp on, etching a cross into the trunk of a tree. “What do you say?” he asked, turning around to face her again. “Each one gets three throws from the other side of the clearing and whoever hits closest to the target wins. You can even use my knives.”

 

The Tooks, asides from being adventurous, had always been known for their competitive streak as well, and Brianna was a Took through and through, so there was really no way she could say no. “Alright.” she said. “But I don’t need your knives. I’ve got my own.”

 

She took a great deal of amusement in the looks on the faces of the dwarves when she pulled a hidden knife out of her bodice, twirling it around her finger just like Fili had. Her opponent actually looked a little impressed, but he quickly hid it behind a cocky grin. Ever the perfect gentleman, he said: “Ladies first.”

 

Brianna couldn’t deny that her heart was thumping in her chest a little too quickly as she walked across the clearing to the point from where they would be throwing their knives. She was acutely aware of the dwarves’ eyes on her as she positioned herself, fixing her gaze on the cross Fili had etched into the tree. She raised her knife, took aim, let out a single breath and then she threw the knife.

 

It seemed to fly almost in slow motion, and then the blade buried itself into the tree, about an inch to the right from the cross. Under her breath, Brianna let out a quiet curse. The dwarves, however, seemed impressed – maybe they had thought that, despite her display of sword skills, she didn’t possess any with knives. “Okay, my turn.” Fili said.

 

He positioned herself where she had just stood and threw his own knife, which landed smack in the middle of the cross. When he turned back around, there was a smug grin on his face, and she could practically see his ego grow. She raised one eyebrow. “Competition’s not over yet.” she reminded him, and Fili sighed. “Yeah, yeah.” he mumbled. “Come on, go again.”

 

Her second knife landed an inch next to Fili’s, while his second missed the cross by two inches – which, to be fair, was only because Kili poked him in the side just as he was throwing. When Brianna got ready to throw her third knife, her heart was pounding again. _Last chance,_ she thought to herself.

 

As soon as the knife left her hand, she knew that it had been a good throw. It had enough force behind it to bury itself into the wood to the hilt, right next to Fili’s, so close that they were touching. Kili, from where he was watching, gave an appreciative whistle. “Nicely done, little one.” he said, and she decided not to complain about the nickname.

 

Fili’s last throw was a good one too, but in the end there was no way to tell who had won. The young dwarf was good sport about it, holding his hand out to her with a smile. “Tie?” he asked and she nodded, grabbing his hand. “Tie.” she agreed.

 

They both went to retrieve their knives from the tree, and Brianna stepped between the trees to tug her knives back into various hiding place under her clothing before they all sat down around the fire again.

 

Her little display of fighting skills had done wonders for her reputation among the company, who previously seemed to have thought she was nothing but a liability – except the princes, of course, and maybe Bofur and Ori. For the first time since they had left the Shire, she was really involved in the friendly chatter, told stories about the Shire and got told stories about Ered Luin in return, and it was absolutely lovely.

 

Thorin remained mostly silent, but Brianna caught him smiling at the others a couple of times, and when their gazes met once, she thought she saw his eyes soften just the slightest bit.


	4. an untold story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave kudos or a comment if you're enjoying the story!

_There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you._

_Maya Angelou_

The very next evening, Fili, who was the only member of the company who fought with two swords, began teaching her. Dori had a short sword about the size and weight of her own which he let her borrow, and to Brianna’s surprise, using both her arms to strike and block came to her quite naturally. Fili and Dwalin had been right; it really did fit her fighting style to carry two blades.

 

Fili, however, for all his easy-going nature, was a demanding teacher, and he made her go through the same motions again and again until muscles in her body that she hadn’t even known existed were aching. “Please, Fili, stop!” she begged breathlessly, the two swords impossibly heavy in her hands. “I need a break.”

 

The blond dwarf, who looked like he hadn’t even broken a sweat, grinned and lowered his own two swords. “Alright.” he said. “But we’ll continue tomorrow.” “Fine.” Brianna replied with a sigh, but even though she felt like she wouldn’t be able to lift a stick, let alone a sword, right now, she had to admit that some part of her was excited for more training, so that maybe, some day, she could whirl her own blades like Fili did with his.

 

As they walked back to join the others around the fire, Bofur gave her a grin. “Not too bad, little one.” he said, and Brianna rolled her eyes. Apparently, the nickname was taking on. Great. “Thanks.” she replied nevertheless. “Though I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to move a muscle tomorrow.”

 

Bofur chuckled. “Yeah, we’ve all been through that.” he said. “My old man used to say, it wasn’t a proper training unless you’re in pain afterwards.” Bifur next to him barked something in the harsh, guttural language he spoke – Khuzdul, she believed – and the others burst into laughter. Even Thorin’s mouth twitched towards a smile for a second.

 

Brianna groaned as she stretched out on the ground, trying to soak in as much warmth for the fire as she could. “Yeah, yeah, your father was probably right.” she muttered. “Still, I’d give my left leg for a nice hot bath right now.”

 

Fili laughed. “I wasn’t even that hard on you.” he assured her. “Uncle used to be much harder on Kili and me. He still is, honestly. Aren’t you?” The last remark was directed at Thorin, who shot them a look. For a moment he was silent, but then he said: “Dwarves are much more resilient than hobbits.”

 

There was a sharp undertone to his voice, and Brianna had a pointed comeback already at the tip of her tongue, but she clenched her fists and said nothing. There was no use in angering Thorin, not when the rest of the company had only just begun to warm up to her. Still, she held his gaze until he looked away, feeling the faintest hint of triumph.

 

Brianna was too tired to properly take part in the conversations unfolding around the fire and so she simply curled up in her sleeping back next to the fire, eventually drifting off to sleep to the dwarves’ voices and laughter.

 

The next morning, she was rudely awoken by a poke to the side. “Oh, bugger off.” she muttered without opening her eyes. Whoever had woken her gave an amused grunt in reply. “Come on, sleepyhead.” Kili’s cheerful voice said. “You have to get up. We’re leaving in a few minutes.” With another groan, Brianna turned onto her back, squinting against the pale morning light. “I hate you.” she mumbled. Kili only chuckled and walked away.

 

Brianna allowed herself a few more seconds in the pleasant warmth of her sleeping bag, but then she accepted her fate and got to her feet. Maybe, if she was lucky, she could doze on Lilly’s back a bit during the day, to make up for the decided lack of truly restful sleep.

 

Around midday, when Thorin once again gave no sign of being about to stop for a small snack, Brianna let out a deep, long-suffering sigh. Ori, who was riding next to her, looked at her curiously. “Are you alright, Miss Brianna?” he asked. She gave him a little smile. “I told you before, just Brianna is fine. And yes, I’m alright. I just really miss having a second breakfast.”

 

The young dwarf’s eyes widened. “Hobbits eat breakfast twice?” he asked incredulously. Brianna grinned, amused at his surprise. “We do, yes.” she replied. “And elevenses, lunch, afternoon tea, dinner, and sometimes a late night snack.”

 

His eyes grew even wider until they were the size of saucers. “You eat seven meals in a day?” he exclaimed. She only shrugged. “It’s the only sensible eating schedule, in my opinion. I seriously don’t know how you make do with two or three meals all the time.”

 

For a moment Ori was silent, but then, so suddenly Brianna flinched a little, he yelled: “Oi, Kili, Fili!”

 

The two princes had been riding a bit in front of them, but at Ori’s call they slowed down their ponies until they were riding on Brianna’s other side. “What is it, Ori?” the younger of the two asked. As the red-haired dwarf told them, still incredulously, about the hobbits’ eating habits, the expression that appeared on their faces wasn’t shock, like on Ori’s. Instead, they looked intrigued.

 

“Honestly, I think that’s a pretty good idea.” Kili said. “We should start having more meals in a day once we retake Erebor.” His brother nodded along enthusiastically and Brianna gave them both a grin. “I’m glad I could be an inspiration.” she replied smugly.

 

All of them were silent for a moment, at least until Fili, his forehead furrowed, asked: “Wait, but if you eat six or seven meals normally, haven’t you been practically starving since we left the Shire?” He sounded genuinely worried and Brianna felt a sudden rush of affection.

 

She shrugged. “We don’t actually need that much food to survive.” she explained. “We just really enjoy eating. Sure, I’ve been eating less than I’m used to, but don’t worry, I’m not going to wither away and starve.”

 

“Good.” Fili said and then, a bit flustered, added: “Cause, you know, we still need you.” Kili and Ori mumbled in agreement and Brianna only grinned. She actually liked the bunch of rowdy dwarves, and even though they didn’t outright admit it yet, she knew they were beginning to care about her as well.

 

This, of course, was excluding Thorin, who still didn’t give her the time of day. She doubted that would ever change.

 

When they eventually stopped for the night, Brianna’s tiredness was all but gone. Once again she helped Bombur prepare dinner from the limited supplies they had, and afterwards, because she knew that there was no way she was going to be able to fall asleep, she volunteered to take first watch. There wasn’t really any need for someone keeping watch all night, not yet anyway, but the dwarves did it anyway and so she figured she could as well do her part.

 

While most of them seemed thankful at her suggestion, Thorin shot her a skeptical glance. “Really?” he asked. “And what are you going to do when a pack of orcs shows up?”

 

Brianna raised her eyebrows. “I’m going to scream and run, of course.” she replied sweetly. “Because that’s what women do, isn’t it?”

 

Thorin scoffed, and for a moment he looked like he was going to say something else, but then he turned away without another word and stomped off towards the other side of the fire. Brianna rolled her eyes – eye-rolling was becoming a habit of hers lately – and then sat down at the edge of the small clearing they had made camp on with her back against a rock, bracing for a long night.

 

One by one, the dwarves fell asleep, murmured conversations turning into deafening snores. Brianna wrapped herself tighter in her fur coat as the nightly cold began to creep in, and wished herself back to her warm, comfortable bed in Bag End for a moment.

 

Quickly, she grew bored. The darkness around her was never-changing, and the dwarves’ snores were strangely soothing, threatening to lull her to sleep, and so, to keep busy and keep from falling asleep, she set to the task of untangling her hair.

 

Her dark curls were unruly on the best of days, but keeping them in a hasty braid and not brushing them at all for the last couple days since she had left Bag End hadn’t done them any favors. They were a hopeless mess, forming thick and seemingly impenetrable bird’s nests on her head. Brianna would have given anything for just a few drops of hair oil, but of course she hadn’t thought to bring any, and so she set to work, doing her best to comb through the knots and tangles with her fingers.

 

It was tedious work that kept her hands busy but allowed her mind to roam, flying off to faraway lands and adventures like it had done so often in the Shire, to keep from suffocating in the everyday trot of Hobbits. When Brianna had been a child, she had made up stories constantly, stories about heroes and dragons and princesses and mysterious quests, and she had told them to anyone who would listen – her parents, her cousins, her friends, even their neighbors, perfectly respectable hobbits that had really had no use for stories about adventures, thank you very much.

 

Back as a little girl, people had found this endearing, had praised her boundless fantasy and the unlimited energy she seemed to have, but as she had grown older more and more people shot her strange looks whenever she told another one of her stories. Brianna had heard them whisper too, about how she needed to grow out of it, to finally become an adult and do what was expected of respectable hobbit lasses – get married to a nice man, have a few kids, and take care of the smial.

 

Young and eager for approval as she had been then, she had stopped telling her stories. She had never stopped making them up, though. Her mind would still run wild, spin tales of heroism and adventure out of thin air, and she would whisper them to herself when no one was there, would write them down sometimes too when the words and stories became too much to contain. In her study in Bag End, she had an entire shelf filled with stack of parchment covered in her slanted handwriting, telling of imaginary wars and quests and all the wonderful adventures Brianna had always hoped to take part in one day.

 

And now here she was, smack in the middle of an adventure more dangerous and fantastical than anything she had ever made up.

 

To be perfectly honest, it scared her. When she was the one writing the stories, she could make the heroes as powerful and wise as she wanted. She could make obstacles disappear with the stroke of a feather, could save lives with a sentence or two, could make sure everything ended the way it was supposed to.

 

But this, this was real life, and in real life the heroes were a bunch of rag-tag dwarves led by a distrustful king who didn’t really want her in his story to begin with. It wasn’t like the adventures she had always imagined, not entirely, but still Brianna had never felt as free as in the few days since she had left the Shire.

 

There was a noise behind her and Brianna yanked her hands out of her hair abruptly, a knife from her boot in her hand before she even really knew what she was doing.

 

With a second’s delay she realized that it was Thorin and she lowered her knife, her heart still pounding in her chest. “You scared me.” she hissed.

 

He didn’t apologize. Instead, he silently walked around the boulder she was sitting against, dropping down on the ground a few inches to her right. Then, his face utterly unreadable, he said: “You have good reflexes.”

 

Brianna only stared at him, flabbergasted. This was the very first time he had said something to her that didn’t criticize her or doubt her abilities, something that, in fact, acknowledged she wasn’t useless, and she didn’t quite know how to react to it. After a period of silence that was too long to still count as fully appropriate, she finally said: “Thank you.”

 

Thorin gave her a tiny, almost imperceptible nod and then they were silent again, staring into the darkness, a strange connection between them for a moment. Then, out of the blue, he said: “You can go to sleep. I’ll continue keeping watch.”

 

It was tempting, of course, to retreat into her sleeping bag where it was warm and cozy and the darkness seemed a lot less threatening, but Brianna wasn’t a fool. Every night since they had left the Shire, Thorin had been the one to sit apart from the group in the evening as they all went to sleep, keeping watch, and every morning without fail he had already been awake before everyone else. There was no way he had gotten more than a few hours of sleep, and she found it oddly irritating that he would refuse her contribution when it was offered, especially when he most definitely needed some sleep.

 

“I’m good.” she said, a sharp edge to her voice. “Or do you think I can’t handle it?”

 

To her surprise, Thorin only sighed quietly instead of scoffing or scowling, which she had half-expected, and he didn’t even sound particularly annoyed. When she shot him a quick look, she noticed that he really did look tired, the lines on his face much more pronounced that they had been before and a look in his eyes that she could only describe as haunted. For a brief moment, in the darkness, he looked his age.

 

“I don’t have time or nerve to fight with you, Miss Baggins.” he said, only the slightest note of annoyance in his tone. “Go to sleep, or don’t. It’s none of my concern.”

 

Curiously, Brianna looked at him again. He was staring off into the distance and really did seem like he could care less about her, which was a decided difference from the open disdain he had displayed during the last few days. In fact, there was a look on his face that told her his mind was very far away, drifting to places yet to travel and lands unseen, a look that she know all too well from herself – only there wasn’t just longing in his eyes, there was also pain.

 

The cold, unmoving mask he usually wore was gone, letting her see a glimpse of the person underneath, and she could almost forget his rude behavior towards her.

 

“Can’t sleep?” she asked carefully. Thorin looked at her, seeming surprised at the question. It was then that Brianna found herself drowning in his eyes, in the blue of the winter sky, and she only came back up when he spoke. “I don’t sleep much at all.”

 

He sounded strangely vulnerable when he said this, and Brianna had the suspicion that there was more to his sleeplessness than just the mindset of a warrior who could do with little sleep. Just the night before, Balin had told them the story of the battle of Moria, and the same haunted look had been in Thorin’s eyes then, as if the memories were still as fresh as if it had happened yesterday.

 

She debated with herself for a while, trying to decide whether to probe him any further, and eventually her lips moved of their own accord, demonstrating again yet again what poor control her brain had over her mouth. “Why?”

 

For a fleeting moment Thorin seemed like he was going to answer, but then, just like that, the mask was back, descending over his features and turning him once more into the hard and cold king-in-exile, so far removed from her as to be unreachable. Brianna couldn’t deny the twinge of disappointment inside of her chest as she saw the change on his face.

 

He remained silent as he shifted his gaze from her to once again stare into the darkness surrounding them. Brianna felt suddenly a blending of emotions that she couldn’t all identify, but as she sat with her back against the cold stone, slowly irritation shifted to the forefront.

 

Without a word she rose, turning her back to Thorin and walking towards her sleeping back. As she curled up and tried to get warm, she thought of her stories. She thought of the heroes she had always imagined, handsome and chivalrous warriors who never treated the heroine with anything but respect. Brianna realized she was angry at Thorin for not being who she wanted him to be, among other things, and that made her angry at herself, for thinking something so childish.

 

She fell asleep shivering and dreamed of swords clashing in the darkness and stories that ended in blood.  


	5. none so blind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, I have anatomy exams coming up and don't have that much time to write.

_There's none so blind as those who will not listen._

_Neil Gaiman_

The next day the rain started and didn’t stop for days. Still they trudged on, along mud-soaked paths and swelling rivers, through fog so thick it might as well have been a low-hanging cloud.

 

The persistent rain brought all their moods down and so they talked little. Even Kili and Fili seemed quieter, subdued almost, and except for the occasional word Brianna exchanged with them or some of the others over the noise of the rain, she rode in silence. She saw little of Thorin, who was always at the head of the company and hidden by mist, and took care not to talk to him when they made camp for the night. It only frustrated her, and added frustration was the last thing she needed.

 

In spite of the weather, Fili continued to teach her how to fight with two swords every evening for one or two hours that always left her tired to the bone, and after it she welcomed sleep, even though she was always soaked through and ice-cold in the morning. She saw no reason to volunteer for the night watch again.

 

When the rain finally stopped, halfway through its eighth day, a collective sigh of relief seemed to go through the company. In the span of a single hour, the mood rose rapidly until some of them were practically giddy, telling Khuzdul jokes and barking out laughter. This, however, didn’t last for long.

 

Brianna’s clothes were only just beginning to dry when she heard Gandalf’s voice from the front of the company, sounding very much irritated and annoyed. “The elves could help us, Thorin. We need food, shelter. We also have a map we cannot read. Lord Elrond might be able to help us.”

 

Thorin scoffed, and it made Brianna feel slightly better that she wasn’t the only one he was utterly dismissive towards. “Help? From the elves?” he spit out. “What help came from them when we were forced from our home by the fire-breather? What help did they offer when the pale orc slaughtered the king in the sacred halls of our people? Do you really expect me to ask help from the very people who betrayed my father and grandfather?”

 

The wizard let out a long-suffering sigh. “You are neither of them.” he reminded Thorin. The rest of the company, including Brianna, was now silent, listening to the conversation between Gandalf and their leader. A bit quieter, maybe hoping they wouldn’t hear him, Gandalf added: “I did not give you that map and key for you to hold on to the past.”

 

Even from where she was sitting on Lilly’s back at the very back of the company, Brianna could see the anger appearing on Thorin’s face. “I did not know they were yours to keep.” he growled, suddenly looking very threatening even though the top of his head just about reached Gandalf’s chest.

 

The wizard mumbled something and then he turned his horse around abruptly. “Where are you going?” Ori asked, confused. Gandalf scowled, an expression that would have looked more at home on Thorin’s face. “To seek the company of the only one around here who has any sense.” “And who’s that?” Brianna asked as he rode past her, his face full of anger and frustration. He shot her a look. “Myself, Brianna.” he replied sharply and then he was gone, vanished behind a hill.

 

“Great.” Brianna mumbled, too low for anyone else to hear.

 

They rode in silence for the rest of the day, good mood forgotten, and eventually they made camp in the burned-out ruin of what had probably once been a farmhouse. The place had an eerie feeling to it and Brianna couldn’t shake the feeling that something awful had happened here, no matter how hard she tried.

 

Thorin ordered Kili and Fili to take care of the ponies, and when they stomped off to feed them and let them a drink from a small river, they didn’t look too thrilled. Fili being ordered away also meant that Brianna’s training was off for the day, and so she busied herself by helping Bombur with preparing dinner once again. While they cooked, the others were uncharacteristically quiet, as if Gandalf’s sudden departure troubled them, and she observed Balin and Thorin having a quiet yet intense discussion.

 

When they were done, Bombur handed her two steaming bowls. “Take those to the lads, will ye?” he said, smiling at her. “They’ll be hungry too.” Glad to have a reason to get away from the weirdly stifled mood among the company, Brianna took the two bowls plus her own and balanced them on her arms as she made her way through the bushes to where Fili and Kili were watching the ponies.

 

The brothers were thankful for the food and Brianna ate with them, having no desire whatsoever to go back to the campfire. Kili left most of the greens in the bowl and fed them to his pony when he was done, but as he did so suddenly his brows furrowed. “Hold on.” he said. “Something’s wrong.”

 

Fili and Brianna both looked up. “What do you mean, something’s wrong?” she asked. Kili turned to face them, a deeply troubled look on his face. “There were fourteen ponies.” he said slowly. “But now… there are only eleven.”

 

Brianna’s heart sank a little as she counted the ponies herself. Kili was right; there were only eleven. “Maybe… maybe they got away when you were taking them to drink?” she suggested half-heartedly. The dark-haired dwarf shook his head vehemently. “No.” he said. “They were definitely all here when we came back. I counted them.” He hurried a few yards away from them into the darkness of the bushes and then yelled: “Look! The ropes have been cut!”

 

Both Brianna and Fili walked over to them and saw that the ropes tying the missing three ponies to a low-hanging branch had indeed been cut clean through. “So someone stole them.” Fili concluded. “What do we do now?” Brianna gave a deep sigh in response. “I hate to say it, but we should probably tell the others.”

 

The brother stared at her with horrified glances. “No!” they exclaimed in unison, and Kili added: “Uncle’s gonna kill us.” He had a point there, Brianna thought. Thorin was already in a worse mood than usual, which was saying something, and telling him that three of their ponies were missing would probably drive him over the edge. Even being his, as far as she knew, sole heirs would probably not save them from Thorin’s wrath. She herself didn’t even have that flimsy protection, and there was no doubt in her mind that the king-in-exile would blame her as well, even if there was no reason for that whatsoever.

 

She sighed again. “Fine.” she said. “Let’s go looking for them. But one of us should probably stay with the rest of the ponies, in case the thief comes back.”

 

Fili was nodding along to what she was saying. “Right, right.” he said. “Kili, you stay here. Brianna and I are going to look for the ponies.” The younger prince seemed absolutely scandalized at that. “Why me?” he asked indignantly. “I…” Fili interrupted him. “Because you’re younger than me, and because Brianna is our burglar. If we need to steal the ponies back, she can do it better than both of us.”

 

Kili seemed to see the reasoning behind that and nodded, though he still seemed a little miffed. Fili turned and looked at her, strangely, smiling. “Come on, little one.” he said. “Let’s go.”

 

With a snort, Brianna followed him. In her opinion, his enthusiasm was grossly misplaced. Whoever had stolen their ponies, she wasn’t entirely looking forward to coming face to face with them. For a moment, she couldn’t help but see the burned-out farmhouse again, and wondered briefly if the mysterious pony thief had done worse things before. The thought made her shiver, and she pushed it aside resolutely.

 

It wasn’t hard to follow the thief – or thieves, for that matter; it was highly unlikely for just one person to steal three ponies without anyone noticing. They had left a trail of trampled undergrowth and broken branches, and it wasn’t long before Brianna and Fili saw a flickering light through the trees. Slowly, and as quietly as they could – which was a lot quieter in her case than in Fili’s – they etched closer, until they could at last see the thieves.

 

Brianna’s breath caught in her throat. They were huge, bigger than she had imagined them from the stories she had been told, and hideous too, with bald heads, skin like old leather and yellowed teeth stumps in their wide mouths. “Trolls.” Fili whispered, and she snorted. “Yeah, you don’t say.” she muttered, her sudden sarcasm a telltale sign of her nervousness.

 

Fili looked at her, his face barely visible in the darkness. “You should go closer.” he whispered. “See if you can get the ponies back without them noticing.” “Me?” she echoed incredulously and Fili nodded. “Yes. Trolls are really slow and stupid, and you’re so tiny and fast, they’ll never see you. If you get in trouble, just hoot twice like a barn owl and once like a brown owl.” Then he was gone, vanished in the undergrowth, never mind that Brianna didn’t actually know how a barn owl’s call was different from a brown owl’s.

 

“Bloody dwarves.” she cursed under her breath before she began carefully making her way around the troll camp. Her heart was beating too fast, and a part of her feared that the trolls would hear it.

 

The three ponies were tied to a tree behind the largest of the trolls. Fili was right; neither of them noticed her as she creeped behind the tree and pulled a knife out of her boot, beginning to hack away at frayed and dirty ropes.

 

Brianna got the first pony free and then the second one, and they trotted quietly back towards the camp – who knew ponies were so smart? – miraculously still without the trolls noticing, but when she began severing the third pony’s rope, everything went sideways. The pony – Dwalin’s, she believed – shied away from her, whinnying, and then the troll turned around. Its huge, ugly face became all she could see, filling out her whole field of vision and drowning out the sky. Before she knew it, she was being held high in the air by a giant hand, three trolls staring at her from tiny eyes. _Great,_ she thought.

“What is that?” one of them asked. “Is it a squirrel?”

 

“Nah, I don’t think so.” a second one grunted. “It has too little fur. Looks like a dwarf, if you ask me.”

 

The third one shook his head vehemently. “You’re both stupid, the lot of ya. It hasn’t got a beard, it’s obviously not a dwarf.” He came closer, his face only inches from her now. His breath reeked of rot and dirt, and for a moment she thought she would retch. “What are ya, then?” the troll asked.

 

Brianna surprised herself with how calm she was. She should have been scared, should have her heart pounding with fear, because as stupid as those trolls were, they could still kill her with a snap of their fingers, but all she felt was a strange, buzzing focus. “I’m a hobbit.” she said as her mind was running wild, trying to come up with a plan that would get her out of this less than ideal situation.

 

“Hobbit?” the first troll said, scrunching up his broad nose, a piece of snot falling to the ground as he did so. “Never heard of it. Can we eat it?”

 

Brianna jumped in before any of the other trolls could say anything. “I would advise against it. Hobbits are known to be horribly poisonous. Just one bite out of me would kill the lot of you.”

 

They seemed to be genuinely troubled by that, and one of them asked, almost fearfully: “Is that true? Are them hobbits really poisonous?” Again, Brianna replied before any of the other trolls could. “We are, yes. Can’t even bite our own tongue without getting awfully sick. Stomach cramps, retching, all that. I really wouldn’t risk it if I were you.”

 

Once more, the trolls seemed unsure. “It does look very unappetizing.” the one holding her said, shaking her around like a rag doll as he inspected her. Again, she felt sick, but the trolls’ words made her almost not notice the nausea. For a short, sweet second Brianna thought her blatant lie would actually keep her from getting crushed by a troll’s stinking fist, or possibly cooked or eaten, but that was the exact moment Fili chose to burst out of the bushes surrounding the clearing, his brother right behind him, both of them with weapons drawn. “Drop her, now!” he demanded, his order carrying much more weight than she was used to from him.

 

The trolls exchanged looks and their faces contorted in what Brianna assumed were grins. “Oh, sure, my pleasure.” the one still holding her up said, and then she was flying, being thrown through the air. The landing was surprisingly soft, as she slammed right into Fili’s chest, who took the brunt of the impact. They both toppled to the ground together in a mess of arms and legs, and thankfully Fili swung his blade outwards on instinct; otherwise she would have impaled herself on it. The blond dwarf groaned and let out a few Khuzdul curses under his breath.

 

“Sorry.” Brianna whispered as she quickly rolled off of him and got to her feet, drawing the sword she now carried all the time. “No worries.” Fili said, weirdly cheerful considering the fact that he had just had a full-sized hobbit thrown in his face and was currently facing three hungry trolls, and Kili on her other side was grinning as well. Completely mad, the whole lot of them, Brianna thought with a hint of fondness.

 

“Why are you guys so happy about this?” she asked with a little snort, not daring to take her eyes off of the tree trolls slowly advancing towards them. Kili’s grin grew wider, and he said: “Because of this.”

 

And then, as if on cue, the undergrowth behind them parted and the other dwarves burst out, all of them wielding their weapons and looking every bit the fierce warrior, even large Bombur wielding what looked like an oversized spoon and old Balin with his disheveled tuft of white hair. They jumped right into the fight and Kili and Fili joined them with glee. For a moment Brianna was frozen in place, the reality of what was happening suddenly hitting her hard.

 

This wasn’t a story, this wasn’t training or a pretend fight, this was real, frighteningly so. There was a possibility of losing, a real one, a possibility that, should it happen, would have awful, horrible consequences. The overwhelming fear of making a mistake paralyzed her, locked her in place, until, suddenly, she heard a voice that sounded like her mother, her mother in those horrible days before she had passed. _Be brave, Brianna._

She squared her shoulders, took a breath, and then grabbed her sword tighter. These were her friends, and she wasn’t going to stand here while they fought. Holding the memory of her mother’s voice close, she jumped into the fight.

 

Fighting the trolls wasn’t anything like fighting Fili or Kili. They were large and slow, and so Brianna quickly figured out that darting between their legs and trying to immobilize them with precise slashes of her blade was the best way to go. It gave her strange thrill to weave in and out of the fight, the trolls’ grasping hands always missing her by an inch. “Good work!” Gloin called from her left as she rammed her sword into the back of one troll’s knee, and Brianna grinned.

 

For a moment she felt invincible, and that was what brought her down.

 

Brianna got cocky, dangerously so, and that was all the trolls needed. Before she even really knew what was happening she was being hoisted up into the air, large hands holding each of her limbs, pulling so hard she thought her shoulder would pop. And suddenly the fear was there, ice-cold panic flooding her body, making her heart pound in her chest.

 

“Drop yer weapons.” one of the trolls holding her growled. “Or we’ll rip the little one in half.”

 

The dwarves froze, some of them mid-motion. On their faces, she could see a range of different emotions – shock, worry, but also something else. Thorin was staring at her, his jaw tight with frustration, eyes gleaming with something she couldn’t quite identify but thought was anger, and for a moment Brianna thought he wouldn’t drop his sword, but then, with a sharp exhale, he chucked it to the ground. The others followed suit, and she felt a faint hint of relief, at least until the troll on her right gave a guttural laugh.

 

“A dozen juicy dwarves… they’re gonna make a much nicer meal than that scrawny hobbit thing.” he exclaimed. “Let’s tie ‘em up!”


	6. well-behaved women

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while, but I've been super busy with university. Hope you like this chapter anyway!

_Well-behaved women seldom make history._

_Laurel Thatcher Ulrich_

A mere three minutes later, the trolls had wrapped half of them in burlap sacks tied at the top and had bound the other half to a slow-turning wooden pole above the fire. One of them was stoking the flames, and the dwarves protested loudly every time a few embers flew up and hit them.

 

Of all the places Brianna could have ended up in wedged between Thorin and a tree trunk was probably not the worst, but she cursed her luck nonetheless. The king-in-exile was radiating disapproval, his face set in angry lines and angles, and if looks could kill she would have dropped dead along with the trolls as soon as Thorin set eyes on them.

 

Well, he could sulk all he wanted, for all she cared. Right now, she didn’t have time to deal with his majesty’s moods, nor with the bubbling fear still filling her chest. She had to find a way to get out of this colossal mess of a situation, because she’d be damned if she’d let the adventure she had waited all her life for find its end between a troll’s stinking, foul teeth.

 

The trolls had disarmed the dwarves and had taken her sword too, but they had missed the sheathed dagger wedged between her breasts, kept firmly in place by her bodice. Brianna could feel it against her chest, solid and reassuring. Her hands were tied, yes, but rather loosely, and with a bit of twisting she could probably get the knife out and get rid of her restraints.

 

Her plan didn’t go much further than that, not yet anyway, but it was better than whining, uselessly threatening or sulking, which the dwarves seemed to have resigned to, and so Brianna started wiggling, slowly trying to get her hands in front of her body.

 

Thorin’s whole body seemed to harden as she started moving, going rigid and stiff. “What in Mahal’s name are you doing?” he hissed. For a moment she was acutely aware of his body against hers, the firmness of his chest and the heat radiating off him even through the burlap, but she quickly reminded herself that no matter how attractive he was, he was a still a colossal asshole.

 

Brianna shot him a look that she hoped was as sharp as his was, though that was hard to do while she was wiggling against him, something that, unfortunately, was unavoidable, what with the tree on her other side and all that. “Trying to get out of here.” she hissed back. “Now, respectfully, shut up.”

 

Maybe he had been taken aback by her bluntness, or maybe he had realized that drawing the trolls’ attention to her escape attempt was not the smartest thing to do. Whatever it was, he remained silent, only letting out a pained grunt as she accidentally rammed her elbow into his stomach. “Sorry.” she whispered, though she wasn’t sure if she entirely meant it.

 

It took her a while, during which no one but Thorin noticed her, but eventually she got the dagger out and made quick work of her restraints, slipping behind the tree that had previously kept her firmly in place next to Thorin, praying to Yavanna that the trolls were stupid enough not to notice she was suddenly gone.

 

Thorin followed her with his eyes, and Brianna noted with some satisfaction that there was a hint of surprised approval on his face, though that vanished quickly as she darted away, deeper into the undergrowth behind them. He had obviously expected her to cut his restraints too, but she didn’t want to risk it. The trolls might have overlooked her escape, but they probably wouldn’t overlook Thorin’s, who had all the discretion of an Oliphant.

 

Hidden between bushes, she wracked her brain to come up with a plan, anything to get them out of here, and suddenly the memory popped back into her head like an epiphany. In the stories she had loved to listen to as a child, told mainly by Gandalf when he came to visit her mother, there had been trolls too, huge ugly creatures who got in the way of the hero’s quest. But in the stories, the trolls had always had one weakness – at the slightest contact with sunlight, they turned into stone.

 

Brianna had no way of knowing if that was true, or if Gandalf had overdramatized the stories in order to make them more entertaining, but it was her only real hope – well, that and the off-chance that the wizard would stop sulking and come to their aid, but she wasn’t about to put all her eggs in that basket. If she could only stall the trolls long enough for the sun to come up – which couldn’t be long now, judging by the blackness of the sky already turning into a dark blue – then maybe, just maybe, the dwarves would not end up as troll dinner.

 

She pushed the dagger she had used to her free herself back into her bodice and took a deep breath. Time to distract some trolls, then.

 

Quietly, she made her way around the clearing. It reminded her of her childhood, when she had used to sneak into Old Willoughby’s orchard to steal delicious red apples – only now, getting caught would have consequences infinitely worse than her mother grounding her for a day or two at the most (Belladonna had never believed in restricting her daughter’s freedom, or taming her wild energy). This time, there were literal lives in danger, should she get caught.

 

There was a tree a few yards from the fire, a thick branch reaching out almost into the middle of the clearing. An idea started to form in Brianna’s head. It was foolish, maybe, and reckless too, but it also would’ve pleased the Took side of her family immensely, and it was the only plan she could come up with on such short notice. Bending down, she grabbed a handful of acorns from the foot of the tree and stuffed them into her coat pocket.

 

 _Here goes nothing,_ she thought, and then she jumped, catching hold of the lowest branch with the tips of her fingers.

 

Climbing the tree was the easiest part. Tooks had always had a reputation of being nimble and sure-footed, and so it didn’t take Brianna long to get to the height she had intended. Her heart, which had been pounding in her chest before, was now strangely calm, beating with a slow and sure determination. She got to her feet, steadying herself with one hand on the tree trunk, and then she slowly made her way onto the branch.

 

The trolls, miraculously, did not notice her balancing act right above their head, but Thorin did. Brianna could see him following her with his gaze, but she had absolutely no idea what he was thinking – whether he thought she was insane, or whether that was begrudging approval shining in his eyes.

 

She walked as far as she dared, close enough to the trunk so she could still get back quickly, before she reached into her pocket and grabbed the acorns. In quick succession she threw three of them, hitting each of the trolls in the head, and, thinking fondly of the throwing games she had played as a child, she darted back towards the tree, pressing herself against the trunk and staying as still as possible.

 

“Hey!” one of trolls yelled, turning his huge head almost comically slow. “What was that?”

 

Brianna didn’t dare breathe where she stood with her back against the solid tree. She was fairly sure she wasn’t visible from the clearing anymore, but her whole plan was banking on the assumption that the trolls would be too stupid to notice she was missing and look for her in the trees – and, of course, that Gandalf’s stories had been true and they really would turn to stone in the sunlight.

 

The troll stoking the fire got up with a grunt. “Bert threw a stone!” he exclaimed. “I saw him!”

 

“Did not!” the third one – Bert, then? – said, outraged. “It was Tom! The stone hit me!”

 

Brianna watched in amazement as the trolls started yelling and roaring at each other about who had thrown the stone, never mind the fact that it had been her and that there hadn’t been a stone but three acorns. Her plan, crazy and half-baked as it was, was working better than expected. A tiny grin curled her lips.

 

She slipped down the tree as quiet as she could, landing on the soft forest floor with barely a noise and making her way around the clearing once again. She stepped out of the undergrowth right next to Thorin, whispering “Hullo there”, and taking some pleasure in the fact that he flinched at her sudden appearance.

 

He fixed her with his piercing blue gaze. “What are you trying to do, burglar?” he growled in a low voice Brianna should not have found as attractive as she did.

 

Still, she shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Trying to keep them from eating the lot of you until the sun comes up, of course.” she muttered. “It is true that they turn to stone in the sunlight, isn’t it?”

 

Thorin nodded, very slowly, and this time she couldn’t miss the approval in his eyes – reluctant, yes, but approval nonetheless. Brianna smiled broadly. “Good.” she replied, surprised at the cheerfulness in her own voice. “My plan is sort of banking on that.”

 

His eyebrows shot up. “And what is your plan, exactly?” he asked. Brianna shrugged. “I will just have to keep them fighting, I guess.” she said. “I should be great at that; everyone back in the Shire always said I was a troublemaker.” Was that _a smile_ on his face, curling his lips for the briefest moment? It couldn’t be, surely. She wasn’t even entirely sure Thorin was physically able to smile. Still, as she darted away again, she couldn’t stop her mouth twisting towards a satisfied grin.

 

It was only now that Brianna noticed the trolls had stopped shouting at each other. Apparently they had solved the whole stone-acorn-conflict she had initiated. It was time for another provocation, then.

 

Brianna briefly considered climbing the tree again but decided against it; the trolls were stupid, yes, but maybe they would eventually figure out that the acorns were coming from somewhere above them. One look up and they would see her, perched on her branch, and she didn’t want to risk that.

 

So, pressing her back against the wide trunk of a tree so the trolls wouldn’t see her even if they looked in her direction, Brianna pitched her voice as low as she possibly could and yelled: “Oi, Bert! I heard Tom say you’re as ugly as a pig’s behind!”

 

The shocked gasps from the dwarves were audible even behind her tree, but they were quickly drowned out by one of the trolls – she couldn’t be sure who, though it was probably Bert, seeing he was the one she had insulted – roaring: “What? Who… who said that?”

 

As fast as she could without making any noise, Brianna ran halfway around the clearing, crouching into some undergrowth and yelling again. “Bert thinks that Bill is too stupid to wipe his own ass!” A second troll started shouting, and Brianna grinned a little, changing her position yet again as she yelled: “Bert and Bill don’t actually like Tom, they keep him around in case they want to eat him one day!”

 

This was enough to make the trolls abandon all thought of who it actually was that had yelled these insults at them, instead lunging at each other, growling and grunting and generally behaving like oversized toddlers fighting over some toy. It didn’t take a long until one of them – Bill, she believed – threw a punch, and from there the fight dissolved into a real brawl, fists and insults alike flying through the air.

 

Deeming the trolls sufficiently distracted, Brianna circled back to the tied up dwarves, making quick work of their restraints. Thorin actually gave her a small nod – which was probably the highest praise she was ever going to get from him – while Kili grinned broadly. “That”, he exclaimed, “was amazing”, and Brianna couldn’t help but grin back.

 

“Yeah, well, it’s not over yet.” she said eventually, her grin falling, and pointed towards the rest of the dwarves still tied up above the fire, in the midst of the trolls still fighting each other. “I don’t think we can get to them without the trolls noticing. We need to…”

 

She was interrupted by a voice, booming through the trees, the whole air seemingly reverberating with it. “The dawn will take you all!”

 

Brianna whipped her head around just in time to see Gandalf standing on top of a large boulder as he brought his staff down and the rock cracked under it with a bone-chilling screech. The beams of the rising sun broke through it, filling the clearing with their glaring light, and the trolls roared, louder than they had ever roared in their fight before.

 

They raised their hands in a useless effort to protect themselves from the sun, every movement accompanied by the horrible sound of stone screeching against stone, and then it was over. The trolls were frozen mid-motion, turned into solid grey rock, their faces forever caught in a mask of shock and anger.

 

For a moment it was eerily quiet, then the dwarves burst into cheers as Gandalf descended into the clearing. Brianna thought it was bit unfair, to be honest. She had done the brunt of the work, after all.

 

The wizard stepped up to her as the dwarves extinguished the fire and cut loose those of them who were still tied up. “Are you alright, Brianna, my dear?” he asked, and she gave a very unladylike snort. “What do you think?” she snapped. “You leave to sulk or whatever in Yavanna’s name you want to call it, and I am the only sensible one left to make sure these stubborn dwarvish oafs don’t die! I’m _just_ great, thank you!”

 

Gandalf only smiled mildly, a twinkle in his eyes. “What you did was very smart, Brianna.” he said. “And reckless, too. Very Tookish of you.” All her anger evaporated as quickly as it had come and she groaned. Damn that stupid, stubborn, too-smart-for-anyone’s-good wizard.

 

“There has to be a cave nearby!” one of the dwarves yelled out from the other side of the clearing, drawing her attention. “We should go look for it.”

 

There were murmurs of agreement, and quick-footed, sharp-eyed Nori found the cave rather quickly. It was completely unlike her smial back in Hobbiton, little more than a dirty hole in the ground, and it smelled faintly of rot when Brianna took a whiff. She snorted. “There’s no way I’m going in there.” she announced.

 

Next to her, Kili grinned and shrugged. “Suit yourself.” he said. “Who knows what treasures we might find in there?” Then, without waiting for her answer, he hopped in, sliding down the dirty wall right into the cave.

 

Most of the dwarves did the same, but it didn’t take long until they came back out, carrying an assortment of weapons and, between Oin and Dori, a tiny chest which she assumed was filled with gold. Brianna watched, half in amusement and half in disbelief, as the two dwarves, with help from some of the others, buried the chest so they, to quote them, “could come back for it”. Honestly, she didn’t think she would ever understand the dwarves’ love of gold and all things shiny. She would happily trade a shimmering gem for a bouquet of flowers any day.

 

“Burglar.”

 

Brianna turned and, to her surprise, saw Thorin standing in front of her. There was a huge sword strapped to his back that she knew he hadn’t been carrying before, but in his hands he was holding another smaller one. The blade was bright silver and slightly curved, and there was something beautiful about it, something elegant and lovely, even though it was a weapon intended to hurt others.

 

“It is about the size of yours.” Thorin said, his voice steady and his face devoid of any emotion. “You won’t have to take Dori’s for a second one anymore.”

 

For a moment Brianna didn’t know what to do, completely taken aback by this sudden change of attitude in Thorin, but then she slowly reached out and took the blade from his hands. “It’s beautiful.” she said softly. “Thank you.”

 

Thorin nodded, and then his face twisted in horror as a bone-chilling howl tore through the air.


End file.
